I barely even felt like I was in control when I leaned over and reached for my phone. I navigated to the BackOutThere app, totally on autopilot, and went to my private messages with LittleBit.
>>Phlox: Had an incredible night tonight on my date, but I’m worried I messed it up there at the end.
>>Phlox: I know I tell you all the time to do things that scare you, but something scared me, tonight.
>>Phlox: I think it may have made me act like an asshole.
>>Phlox: And I don’t want to be an asshole to this guy.
>>Phlox: He’s one of the most special things I’ve ever found.
>>Phlox: I hope you have an okay day tomorrow, LittleBit. I’m always around, even when I’m a little freaked out.
I swallowed, already feeling a little lighter having sent the messages. I was still terrified, but it felt different now, like I’d let out a caged bird into the world instead of keeping it locked inside me.
It was so much easier to talk to him about it like this. Even though we both knew we were messaging with each other, now, it felt so simple to express myself in small notes, pretending like I was talking to a friend.
And I was talking to a friend.
I was just starting to drift off to sleep when my phone buzzed and lit up in my hand. Adrenaline shot through me as I saw that he had responded. It was the middle of the night by now, and there was no chance in hell I ever thought he would see my messages before tomorrow.
My heart slammed in my chest as I opened the messages.
>>LittleBit: I think you shouldn’t worry about him thinking you’re an asshole.
>>LittleBit: Think about it this way. Maybe he thought he was the one being a dick. Maybe he feels awful for making you feel scared in the first place.
>>LittleBit: But I can guarantee one thing. He is lucky to have you, in any way, shape, or form.
I rolled over on the bed, clutching my phone in my hands like it was something precious.
He was still right there.
He wasn’t doubting himself, or doubting everything, just because I’d had a rough time earlier.
>>Phlox: I just hope he knows that I’m not scared of him. The scariest part is the idea of ever not having him in my life. You know?
>>LittleBit: Wow.
>>LittleBit: That’s beautiful, Phlox.
>>LittleBit: You ever think about being a poet?
I chuckled, smiling for the first time in hours. I pulled in a deep breath and let it out, a feeling of relief I didn’t think I’d have tonight.
>>Phlox: I prefer to keep my creativity to my gardens. But thank you.
>>LittleBit: Sleep well, Phlox. Maybe both of us can actually get some sleep, now.
I fell asleep reading over his messages again and again.
I knew none of this was going to be as easy as it should be. But when I talked to him, I felt like a normal person again.
I didn’t even realize what the next day was until Lizzy called me up, waking me from a deep sleep.
“Morning, Warren,” she said.
I was still groggy. I didn’t have to be at work for another hour, but Lizzy was always up early. “Why can’t you ever just call me my first name?” I protested.
“Because that’s no fun,” she said. Her voice sounded gentler than usual, and I knew something was up.
“What’s going on, Liz?”
“Just wanted to know what time you’re coming over tonight.”
“Coming over?”
“You know what today is, right?”
It suddenly hit me. Today was Jason’s birthday. Or it would have been, if he were still alive at all.
“Oh, God,” I said, scrubbing a palm over my face.
“Did you forget?”
“No, I didn’t forget… well, yes, actually, I guess I did.”
A strange mixture of guilt and hope filled me. I felt awful for forgetting, but it was surreal that I had recovered enough to not have the day hang over me like a cloud each year. There were lots of dates like that, with Jason: his birthday, the day of his death, and of course, the other ones. The ones I had tattooed on my body.
This was the first one I’d forgotten in the past four years.
“I’ll come around as soon as I’m done at work,” I said.
Work at the inn was mercifully quick, almost a blur. The Golden Goose was hosting a gathering of recently retired people, and I spent a lot of the day answering questions about proper gardening and showing everybody my most prized plants.
When I got to Lizzy’s, she was already set up in her backyard. Liz’s yard was simpler than mine, but it had always felt cozy, surrounded by well-tended hedges and big trees. The fire pit was lit, there was a cold beer ready for me, and a big bucket of kettle corn, which had always been Jason’s favorite snack.